ark, until the gray light of dawn seeped thro

table. It was cold. She took a sip, trying to q

A push notification fro

ly, a high-resolution photograph of Jordon a

, possessive gesture. The headline screamed: JOR

ame coat he'd been wearing last nigh

hoto. She saw the woman's wrist, and on it

e's br

pped from her numb fingers, lan

izing her stomach. She doubled over, pre

She picked up the phone, her movements jerk

eping in her ear was a form of torture,

wasn't Jordon's deep, familiar vo

h sleep. In the background, Ciara could hear

t through Ciara. "Where is Jordon?" she

ordon was up with me all night. He just fe

d. "Put him on the phone, Jasmine," she sna

ssive. I was just so scared after my... episode. Jordon was the on

heard Jordon's muffled

oed, her voice dropping to an in

ne wen

A violent wave of nausea hit her,

ame up. Hot, silent tears streamed down

She looked up, meeting her own reflection in the mirror.

s humiliating, contractual marriage of convenience,

d, replaced by a cold, sharp-edged fury. She straigh

f soft, cashmere dresses and sensible flats that screamed 'de

like armor. She slipped on a pair

lasses, hiding the evidence of her te

b report from her coat pocket, and tucked i

home system. "Have the car ready," she commanded, he

ard the elevator, her heels clicking with purpose on th

the back of th

r eyes fixed straight ahead.

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